Fall
by Cigs and Papahs
Summary: All great kings eventually die. All empires eventually fall.


A/N: I've never written a Newsie story before, go easy on me? One night I was without a computer and I wrote this in my notebook. 6 pages in all in my notebook. Blahblahblah, excuse my shitty grammar, please?

Empires. That was the word that popped into my mind as I looked over my city. The noises of a regular day rang in my ears. Kids were selling the evening edition as horses and their carriages trotted on by. From a roof top this dirty city looked like heaven. Heaven to any orphan or runaway, that is. Anyone would give to be its king.

I never really noticed its beauty like this before. Sure, I know my kingdom was beautiful, but this beauty was like seeing a beauty that was over looked or taken for granted. I never had realized what I treasure I had. Funny, how you realize things after they slip through your fingers. The wind picked up and a tremor ran through my body. I gave the city one last look from the roof top before quickly scampering down the fire escape.

I swung into through the window of my room and listened to my feet hit the wooden floorboards. The private room was empty, as it should be. I did another once over before prying up a piece of the floor. A small empty space appeared below. I slowly reached for my pride and joy, my slingshot. I pulled it out of my waistband and slowly ran my fingers over the smooth oak wood. I gazed over it one last time before tucking it away in the opening. I slid the board back into place before standing from my squatting position.

I walked over to the window and gazed out. My hand gripped the windowsill as the word came to mind again. Empire. Empires were easy to create, but hard to maintain. Realization hit me as quickly as a racing horse carriage would. Brooklyn was my empire. I had been its longest and greatest leader. I quickly laughed at the thought of my name being put in front of 'The Great.' Spot The Great. It didn't have a bad ring.

My thoughts drifted to my oncoming doom. I would thank the only god I knew for those birdies. But they didn't save my life. No one could do that now. They could fight as hard as they wanted but 2 on 1 was never fair game. I told Manhattan to stay away. I didn't want Jack and his innocent newsies to get involved. I chuckled darkly, now wishing I had said goodbye. No matter what I had said in the past, Manhattan was the closest friend I have ever had. They might never hear of my doom but there would be no official funeral, not for a poor runaway. If there would be anything left of me would be a mystery.

I gave my thoughts to my boys, the soldiers. I had no personal relationship with them. A leader should never. They'd fight until they were dead. They had not a thing in the world to live for. They were a rough bunch, not as bad as the scum in the Bronx, but they weren't Manhattan. I had their respect and they had mine.

My thoughts scattered as they door burst open. Snipeshooter appeared in my sight quickly. Everyone except the Brooklyn boys thought he was from 'Hattan. But really he was one of my many birdies. He was my eyes looking out for Jake Kelly's stupidity. Snipeshooter fidgeted as he waited for me to address him. I had practically raised the kid. There were few soft spots on my heart but Snipes had one of them.

"What is it kid?" I addressed finally.

Snipeshooter impatience quickly returned. "They're coming Spot! The Bronx! They'se got Queens with 'em!" His words were quick and terrified. They were already coming. I stared at Snipeshooter before I realized he was in the wrong borough.

"Get out of Brooklyn Snipes, now."

"What?" he screeched. "I want to stay and fight." His voice almost mimicked finality.

I stared at the young boy I took in, the one I mentored, the one I expected to pick up the pieces.

"Get outta Brooklyn till this is done. Then come back and do what I taught you. You remember right?"

Snipeshooter was done fighting back. He nodded before gazing at me one last time. His eyes were red and brimmed with tears. I half smirked. The kid liked me even if I was hard as hell on him.

"Goodbye Snipes."

I know he resisted showing me affection. He knew me better than anyone, and understood I hated affection more than anything.

He glanced at a certain floorboard before responding. "Goodbye Spot." Then, my prodigy was gone.

I dropped my hat on my head. The docks. I decided that was where it would happen. They were my favorite part of this kingdom. The walk was short, only a few blocks over from the lodging house. No one approached me. Even if my doom was coming, I was still the most feared newsie in all of New York. Soon enough, I was standing on the docks, gazing around. A few of my boys were milling around. They were already eager for the fight. I nodded at them before taking my perch on the rafters. I gazed out over the water of our beautiful river. My eyes quickly caught sight of the masterpiece none other than the Brooklyn Bridge. Sadness seeped though my veins. I'd miss it all. I was too old for this kid crap anyway. Soon to be 18 did me no justice in court. My thoughts melted away as my feelings became numb again.

It took them an hour to finally appear. They walked like an army towards me. Their faces were stoic. I knew they were after one thing, my life. More of my boys showed up moments earlier. Talk about good timing. I jumped off of my perch as they neared. My face matched theirs. My boys quickly pooled around me. It was a faceoff between Brooklyn and the Bronx and Queens.

Snort, the annoying leader of Queens, was first to speak. "Ready to end your reign, Spot?"

I did not grace him with a response. I glared before seeing my boy's part out of the corner of my eye. Who was coming through? Why were they coming through? Queens and the Bronx were also curious, since they had made no move to attack us when we weren't looking.

The one and only short stack named Racetrack Higgins swaggered through.

"Heya Spot," he said, a cigar hanging loosely from his lips.

Snort let out a cackle. "Spotty's boyfriend is here!"

I didn't hide my surprise. Neither Race nor I responded to Snort. Race, he was another one of my soft spots. No, he wasn't my boyfriend. He was the most trustworthy kid I knew.

"What are you doing here Race?" I asked.

A crooked grin appeared on the boy's face. "We ain't going down without a fight."

A smirk appeared on my face and it quickly disappeared as Snort began speaking. "We're taking Brooklyn tonight, so let's get this over with."

I sneered, they reeked of confidence. "Ya dirty little-" I never got to finish my statement, they rushed at us too quickly.

My boys were holding their own weight. I wasn't positive but I had no time to check. 5 were on me at once and more were on their way. I was holding them off best I could. My cane swung quickly with precision, nailing its targets. Suddenly, hope started to fill me up. I glanced over to see Race putting up a hell of a fight. I almost laughed a loud. That was before the popping noises met my ears. I had heard it once before. My eyes widened. They cheated.

My boys scattered and suddenly Race was being dragged away. He was putting up a fight best he could with his arms being held. I was about to run after him when someone jumped in front of me. It was Snort, without a bruise or cut in sight. He must have been waiting for this moment.

As I swung my fist I felt cold metal of a knife slid into my lower back. Why didn't I hear someone sneak up behind me? It was quickly pulled out before I fell forward into the ground. It was slid in one more time before I watched two figures run away. There was wetness on my back. It was warm and sticky; it almost felt like water had been poured on the back of my shirt. Pain screamed in my body. Time slipped away from me. How long had I been laying here?

As I lay face down on the docks, they only word that came to mind was empire. Brooklyn was an empire. I was no longer its King. All great kings eventually die. All empires eventually fall.

I couldn't help but hear footsteps running towards me as I slipped into darkness.

A/N: Yeah, there it was. Yes, I love Snipeshooter and Spot, so I just wanted to throw that little piece in cause I thought it'd be pretty freaking cute, in my eyes that is.

I don't care if you don't think that's how Spot would act. I'm not making him a coward and running off or something else. He realized that it was over for him and went to face his doom, and of course he put up a final fight. Every hero does.

But, my fight scene sucks. I suck at describing how people fought. This one shot more or less revolves around Conlon's feelings.

But yes, there are so many directions this one shot could have. It could spark a story of Spots childhood and how he got Brooklyn, how Spot came across Snipeshooter, Snipeshooter's reign on Brooklyn, or finally what happened to Spot.

**No, our beloved king of Brooklyn is not dead. Who do those footsteps belong too? Well, that's another story. **


End file.
